The Singles Jukebox

Her fourth appearance here, but her first time missing the sidebar…

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[6.57]

Hannah Jocelyn: Nilüfer Yanya usually wins me over with her eccentric melodies and sharp production, but I never cared for her breakthrough “Baby Luv,” a song that kept teasing towards a big chorus but settled for literally repeating the word again throughout. This has the same issue for about three minutes, rarely content to leave its “Weird Fishes”-indebted comfort zone — a heavily compressed acoustic breakdown  only leads into more slow-burning, and the lyrics aren’t interesting enough to justify the extended build. When the song finally opens up, it’s somewhat thrilling, but still underwhelming considering her capabilities.
[6]

Alfred Soto: She recorded a debut whose fusing of the artier electronic parts of early Sinead O’Connor, the sound collages of St. Vincent, and bits of synth and sax picked up from Loverboy albums sounded weird and compelling. Leading with ho-hum strum and rather loud drums, “midnight sun” eschews the weird and compelling bits, and when I make out what Nilüfer Yanya says it does not entice me into further research.
[4]

Vikram Joseph: While Nilüfer Yanya’s debut full-length felt a little aimless at times, her best songs are precise, taut and piercingly anxious. “midnight sun” exemplifies this beautifully — there’s so much tension and ennui pent up within its sticky groove, offset by Yanya’s gossamer upper register. It’s a testament to her songcraft that it simultaneously feels entirely controlled and perpetually on the verge of implosion, and the catharsis of the final minute feels intensely well-earned — a torrent of bruising, thick-walled guitars that My Bloody Valentine would be happy to call their own.
[8]

John S. Quinn-Puerta: Short snare rolls, doubled vocals, buzzy acoustic, constant bass, thumpy kicks. I’m falling deeper into the the sonic thrall, compelled to move. I can feel my calves tensing up just from the slow ratcheting of the verse. When the droning distortion really turns up on the back half, I’m completely sold. This will be on a loop in my house for a while, and hopefully my muscles won’t have tensed into knots.
[9]

Nortey Dowuona: First, the heavy, awkward drums circled by the flat guitar makes Nilüfer’s ghostly voice feel even more insubstantial and porous, especially as each chorus is buoyed by the dueling bass and other guitars. Suddenly the guitars drop out for the bridge and spiral, Nilüfer’s voice so thin it can’t be pulled down by the weight of the mix. Once the guitar and bass are matted together in a bloody, seething mess, Nilüfer floats on, her voice completely calm.
[7]

Andrew Karpan: Gentle and catchy like a Raincoats record left in a gentle spring rain, Yanya borrows a vibe, or maybe two, from the London DIY scene on the latest of her return singles. It’s a hammering, bluesy plea with a “rough sound” that feels shouted late into the night air.
[7]

Oliver Maier: Purposefully dour alt-rock is a tough act to pull off without slipping into monotony. I don’t know that Yanya quite manages it, and if she does, not for the full five minutes. The drumless chorus is clearly meant as a burst of catharsis, but it feels as if it’s still playing in the space that the previous sections have established, not breaking free of it, or even trying to.
[5]